


Lower Decks

by FeardotJpeg



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Canon NON compliant, Crack?, Found Family, Gen, and I was right!, fluff?, fuck if i know it was a blast to write, i am ignoring it for now because i thought a 'day in the life of' fic would be fun, if you take the before the nightmare novel as canon, maybe the genre of fic was the fun we had along the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:01:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22930657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeardotJpeg/pseuds/FeardotJpeg
Summary: A day in the life of the mobile Devil May Cry unit, during that missing month(Not cannon compliant)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 57





	Lower Decks

**Author's Note:**

> I am a big ol' softy for day-in-the-life type stories, so here's one from an idea I had before I knew about the novel
> 
> The title is taken from an old tng episode, because with me it all comes back around to star trek.

Nico hacked herself awake, just in time to catch the still lit cigarette teetering between her fingers as she sat in the driver's seat of her van. She stared at it, balefully, trying to remember how long she'd been asleep. Long enough for the thing to burn itself nearly down to the filter, apparently. She stifled another cough, and flicked the butt out the open window. Maybe Nero was right, it was time to quit, or at least slow down. She was burning through packs like never before.

She wiped a hand across her eyes and sighed deeply through her nose. 

She'd try after this whole Qliphoth mess was taken care of. No use looking after your health if you weren't sure you'd be alive in the next ten minutes.

"That's littering, you know. You tryin' to burn down the whole town?"

"Ain't much left to burn down." She replied. She turned to look at Nero, lounging on her couch like he owned the place. Which he did. "How the fuck long have you been there?"

"About 5 minutes," he said, pushing himself up with one arm. "Got to say, walking in on you dead asleep while smoking almost makes this business trip worth it." He waved a smart phone past her face, pictures of her passed out painting the screen. "Kyrie thinks so too," he taunted.

"Watch it, asshole. See if I don't make a devil breaker that blows your fool head off," she hissed. There was heat behind the words but they both knew she didn't mean it. Banter and insults were how they kept themselves sane between the never ending hordes of demons and corpses and angst and poetry. Speaking of...

"Hey where'd the bean pole run off to? He was here about a second ago." Nico cast a glance around the trailer, looking for any trace of their new "friend." Nero seemed to like the guy, but Nico was still on the fence: he was too mysterious. He knew something big and he was keeping to himself and she wasn't sure she appreciated that.

Also his bird was lippy. 

Nero shrugged. "Wasn't here when I came in."

"Yeah, li'l weirdo probably went to go play reading rainbow with some empusas." She stood, brushing past Nero to get to the coffee pot that squatted under the cabinets, arm reaching up to gently push his shoulder out of her face. It took less force than normal. About 30 pounds less. She spun on her heel to face her friend, hands on her hips. "Nero"

"Yeah?"

"Where is my god damn arm?"

Nero looked anywhere but her face. "Uh, there was a death scissor that snuck up on me, and I kinda, overloaded and broke it.

"You broke it."

"It was an accident?"

"Accident, schmaccident! Do you know how much fucking time and effort I put into those things? They ain't just weapons you get to throw around like that sword and those guns! **They're a work of art** " Nero finished the last part with her, but she didn't let the attitude stiffle her righteous anger. "I want some premium demon parts to make up for you losing that thing!"

"What? I already paid for the damn thing!" Nero sputtered. "How do I owe you anything?"

"You want the devil breakers to keep on coming, you gotta bring me the materials to make them! I can't just drive up to an Autozone like 'hey do you got any demon corpses hanging around? I'm making an arm for my friend.'" 

Nero gaped at her. "What the ever loving fuck are you talking about?" He shook his head to clear it. "Look, can I please just get a new devil breaker before I go back to killing shit for eight hours?" He huffed, extending what was left of his prosthetic.

Nico looked between his face and the busted devil breaker and her new prototype thrown across the counter. She had to admit, it wasn't like him to be getting snuck up on. She gave him a once over. He looked as dog tired as she felt. And he needed a fucking shower.

"Nope," she popped the p hard.

"What do you mean 'nope?' I need a new arm." 

"I mean," she began, turning away from him completely and walking over to her work station. "That I'm fresh out. You have run my arm well dry. I gotta make some more." 

Nero groaned behind her. "And how long is that gonna take?"

"'Bout 12 hours, if I hurry, and I wont. Just because I ain't running around doing backflips and kicking demon ass don't mean I ain't tired too."

Nero mumbled angrily under his breath.

"What was that? A 'thank you Ms. Goldstein for building me a weaponized prosthetic, a marvel of biomedical and mechanical engineering out of the back of my minitaurus' perhaps?"

Nero rolled his eyes. "Thank you Nico," he droned as he flopped down on the couch hard enough to make the whole van shake. "Just, wake me up when you're done," he yawned. "Or when you've finally made a pot of coffee that doesn't taste like ass."

"I make amazing coffee and you aint getting none of it."

Nero mumbled something back, but his face was so far deep in the cushions she couldn't have ever hoped to make out what it was. She counted to ten before he was really, properly asleep and snoring like a bear. She looked longingly at the juke box, wishing it was working so she could play something to cover the noise. She started humming and got to work making a fresh pot of coffee. Once he coffee machine was chugging away, she turned to look at the twenty odd devil breakers she had hanging behind the counter. The poor bastard really did need the break if he hadn't noticed those.

  
Six hours later and Nico was deep in the zone. She'd gone back to fiddling with the prototype from earlier, and Nero hadn't moved from his spot on the couch, though he'd rollen over once, so at least the snoring had stopped.

Nico stared down hard at the schematics in her notebook. 

She was close. She could just feel the machine under her hands coming together, could hear it whispering in her mind, telling her what it needed to reach its true potential. If only she could just understand. She started tapping her pencil against the counter.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She needed a power source. Something different. A little piece of a demon that had enough raw power and force to stop a charging bull. Not like an empusa or a death scissor or even a hell antenora. She needed-- 

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap

She needed-- 

Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.

She needed a fucking smoke. Huffing, Nico threw down her pencil and stalked over to door, slipping a cigarette between her lips as she went. She shook her lighter, testing the fluid. She'd need another soon. She swung open the door with, causing it to bounce against the wall of the van, only to come face to face with V, the beanpole himself, hand still raised as if to reach for the handle. 

Nico grinned widely around the unlit cigarette at the small look of surprise on his face. 

"Was wondering where you went off to," she drawled. V shuffled aside so she could step down. She did not, choosing to sit on the threshold instead. "Get tired of doing slam poetry for the demons?"

"The audience was less receptive than I'd hoped."

Nico snorted, flicking the lighter on. "You're getting better at this comedy thing. That was almost funny."

V shrugged and smirked that smile he gave when he was pleased, but didnt want nobody to know. She'd seen Nero making the same face a hundred times before. It was almost spooky how similar two strangers could be. Right down to the little bitch way they hated her smoke. V was already waving it away from his face as he went to lean against the wall upwind of her. 

"I try my best," he said wryly.

Nico hummed. They sat in silence for a few puffs before the quiet got to her.

"You know," she said. "There's still coffee inside if you want any."

His nose wrinkled at the offer. "I... think I'll pass."

"Well shit," Nico swore. "Not you too! I know I like it strong but I didn't I think I was that bad at making the stuff."

V shook his head, amused. "It's not that. Coffee is simply," he paused halfway through the sentence, as was his way. "Not to my taste."

Nico stared at him, expressionless. She took a long drag on her cigarette before finally asking: "So then why are you here?" He cocked a brow in response.

"Tired of my presence already?"

"Aw, shit," Nico said. "I didn't mean it like that. I just meant, like, why are you out here, with me. 'Cause, yeah, Nero's hogging the couch, but there's still other seats. And," she continued. "You don't usually come by this often. I mean, this is like, the third time in two days, so you know--" She trailed off, nodding her head in a prompting motion.

V shrugged and looked back out over the midday view of the ruined city. His eyes eventually landed on the Qliphoth. Nico followed his gaze.

"Is it so hard to be believe that I enjoy your company?" He asked.

Nico grinned. Alright, so maybe he was growing on her.

"Hell no," she hooted. "I am a delight! But I ain't stupid." She scooted over, crushed the dregs of her cig under boot and patted the new space next to her. "So c'mere and spill. Or don't. Ain't like I give a rat's ass."

V looked at the empty space like it would bite him. Nico looked at him over her glasses. He sighed and sat down. Nico snorted as something in his knee popped, gunshot-loud.

"Damn dude, you just dislocate something?" She asked.

He swung the knee in question, back and forth, testing. "No."

"Hmm good thing too, I only know how to pop shoulders into place. You gotta go to Nero for anything else, and I am not gonna be the one to wake him up. He's a sleep fighter."

"That's," V paused. "Interesting."

"I think you mean fucking hilarious. If he don't have something to cuddle up with he ends up putting dents in the wall." Nico flipped out a phone, and quickly pulled up a slew of photos showing Nero, asleep and hugging various items. She clicked on one in which he was holding an enourmous wrench. "He's like a chameleon, just grabs onto what ever you hand him." 

V smiled wider than she'd ever seen before and chuckled. "And what did you give him this time?" He asked.

A crack from inside the van echoed across the city.

"...Nothing. Aw shit." Nico threw herself upward and into the van "Hey asshole, don't you bust up my couch!" She shouted. V leaned back to get a better look at their shenanigans. 

Nero sat up on the couch, still dazed from sleep, looking at his red knuckles. Nico towered over him, as much as she could.

"Where's the demon?" He slurred.

"There ain't a demon! Just my poor couch," Nico whined, gesturing at the crack in the wood back. Nero looked at the crack, then back at Nico.

"Sorry?" He said, shrugging. Nico threw her hands up and stalked back over to her work station. Nero watched her go, before finally noticing V in the doorway. "Oh, hey V."

"Hello," V said. "You should've brought your wrench."

Nero swore. "Aw Nico, you showed him the wrench picture?"

"I showed him all the pictures, Mike Tyson!"

Nero threw himself back onto the couch groaning. He glared at the ceiling. Then he grinned. "Hey V," he said, sitting up. "Wanna see a picture of Nico?"

V eyed him dubiously. 

"Don't you dare!" Nico called from her counter. "You already sent that one to Kyrie, we're even!"

"Like hell we are!" Nero shot back, phone already out. He tossed the phone to V, who caught it easily. V squinted at the screen, and laughed. He looked to Nico, mouth open to speak when she interrupted him.

"Wipe that smile off your face, Gene Kelly," Nico huffed. "Or I'll tell him about that little dance of yours." 

V's eyes widened. "How did you-"

"I see all, and I know all," Nico paused to sniff and wrinkle her nose. "And I smell Nero. Man, get in the shower!"

"No wait, I wanna know about the dance," Nero said.

"You ain't gonna hear dick about the dance until you at least get after it with wash cloth. You smell like an Angelo's jockstrap!"

Nero pushed himself up off the couch with an eyeroll and a sigh and stomped the short distance to the bathroom. He got as far as opening the door, before he twirled to point a vicous finger at V.

"I am seeing this dance, someday," he declared. "And then one of you is going to tell me who the fuck Gene Kelly is." He slammed the door behind him, the sound of running water coming soon after.

Nico turned her attention back to the prosthetic on the counter.

V cleared his throat. "How did you, uh" he began, almost nervously.

"Know that you do little showtune dances when you kill demons?" Nico finished without looking up. "A little birdy told me."

"Ah," V said. "Of course."

They sat quietly for a few minutes, listening to the shower running and the screech of far off demons.

"So," Nico broke the near silence. "Was Debbie Reynolds hot or what?"

**Author's Note:**

> Civilian friend groups be like: john, amanda, scott  
> Devil Hunter friend groups be like: the deadweight, the feral gunsmith, several of your father's traumas wearing a sleeveless trenchcoat and mandals


End file.
